He can't remember why
by emma4713
Summary: He hates himself for the absurd, romantic comedyness of it all. He loved her before he ever kissed her. He wanted to be with her forever when she was engaged to another man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He still wants that.


He's with her and he can't for the life of him remember why.

She smiles at him and he misses the other smile. Her eyes flash and he misses the other eyes.

He dances with her, but he looks at the other girl. The other girl who nervously looks away and gets up and leaves.

He's not allowed to follow the other girl, is he?

But it's her he wants. It's her he's always wanted. It's her he always will want.

He hates himself for the absurd, romantic comedy-ness of it all. He loved her before he ever kissed her. He wanted to be with her forever when she was engaged to another man.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He still wants that.

What is he doing dancing with this girl, holding hands with this girl, kissing this girl? What is he doing?

He loves her.

He loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

That's not the mantra he wants in his head. He wants to tell himself he doesn't need her. He wants to think about his girl. But he can't get over the other one.

He wishes he had some way to get the feelings out of his head. He wishes he could do something besides just thinking about it and rolling it around on his tongue like a mouthful of scotch. He wishes he could draw her.

Does she draw him?

He wonders what he looks like through her eyes. Big shoulders and a crooked smile and too tall for his own good. He wonders if she's ever drawn him. He wonders if she's noticed that freckle at the base of his neck.

He's noticed the simple little parts of her. When she yawns she crinkles up her nose and squeezes her eyes closed. She has a curl that somehow escapes her clip and hangs around her face. He wants to twist it around his finger, then let his hand trace her jaw and cup her cheek.

His hands come together behind her neck as he pulls her into his lips.

She is exactly like he remembers. It isn't a movie kiss; it's too real for that. It's perfect in its flaws, flawless in its imperfections. His hands tangle in her hair and she giggles because it hurts.

"Are you okay?"

She beams. "I'm great."

He kisses her forehead. "Stay with me forever."

She nods against his lips.

But when he opens his eyes, it's not her hair on the pillow next to his. It's darker, straighter. He grumbles and rolls to the other side of the bed. His grumble, however, has alerted his bedmate that he's awake, and she crawls to his side and slips her arms around him.

"Hey there, Halpert."

He grunts in response.

She doesn't really understand what's been happening lately. He used to be a morning person. In Stamford, he kissed her good morning—sometimes he even woke her up kissing her. In Stamford, he smiled at her. In Stamford, he didn't avoid her eyes and skirt away from her when she tried to touch him at work.

She doesn't want to think about it. She doesn't think about it, as much as she can. But things like this, when she tries to say good morning and he tries to shrug her off. She can't ignore things like this. And when she thinks about it, she knows why he's suddenly not a morning person. She knows why he's stopped smiling at her, why he's avoiding her eyes.

It's not her he wants to see in the morning. It's not her he wants to smile at. It's not her eyes he wants to see. And it's certainly not her he wants to touch him at work.

She pulls her arms from him and rolls away, quickly getting out of bed. He notices something's different, but he doesn't ask. He doesn't want to know.

By the time he gets up and dressed, she's about to head out the door.

"We're not riding together?"

"I've got some things I want to do after work."

It comes out as a lie. They both know it. But they just look at each other. He shrugs.

"Okay."

"See you in there, Halpert."

"See you."

She doesn't kiss him goodbye. He doesn't ask her to.

He makes the drive as he's always made it, slow and steady, Arcade Fire playing softly. The music changes sometimes, but the route never does, he never does. It's his time to himself. It's the only time he doesn't think about her. Because it's just him and the hum of his engine and the gentle drums and guitar. Because as soon as he pulls into the parking lot, he slows down. As soon as he pulls into the parking lot, he remembers her. He dreads her.

He takes his time getting his briefcase, getting everything in order. He straightens his jacket even though he doesn't need to. Glancing up at the third story window, he heads inside.

He takes the stairs because they will take longer. He used to take the stairs to go faster; he'd bound up them with his long legs, three at a time, just so he could see her again. Now he takes them in single steps, slowly. Maybe she'll be sick today, he hopes.

But when he opens the door there she is. She looks up at him and beams. His heart shatters.

"Hey Jim."

"Morning Pam."

He gives her a smile back, hangs up his coat, and heads to his desk.

After ten minutes of work he realizes he has no idea if Karen's there. He glances up and she is, working at her desk. He doesn't want to, but he goes over.

"Hey."

"Hey," she says, not looking up.

"So after you get your stuff done after work, you want to go to dinner?"

She looks at him. At least he's trying. There is that. But it's strained and unreal and they both know it. She shakes her head and goes back to working.

"No, I think I'll be back late. I'm just going to crash at my place."

"Oh. Okay."

He's somewhat relieved as he walks back to his desk. Then the other one smiles at him. At him, her smile is always a beam—bright and shining and truly happy. He almost vomits.

He heads to her desk to ask if she wants to eat lunch together, but she waves him off before he gets anywhere near. She's on the phone, clearly working through lunch. He shrugs and ambles to the break room.

In minutes, the other girl's there with the smile. "You look like a Labrador retriever."

"What?" he asks, putting down his ham and cheese.

"You look like a Labrador retriever," she repeats, sitting next to him. "When you came in here, the way you walked. Like an overgrown puppy, sort of floppy and everything."

"Well thanks Pam, that's what I was going for," he chuckles.

"It was cute."

His chest tightens and he focuses on his food.

But as they eat in silence, his mind wanders back to her and his eyes follow. The curl is hanging out of her clip again. He resists the urge to tuck it behind her ear for her.

"You want to grab a drink or something after work?" The words are out of his mouth before he realizes he's talking.

"Oh, is everyone going?" she asks, and he thinks she's trying to be nonchalant.

"No. I mean, I don't know. Karen's got things to do, and Dwight's obviously not going. I mean, it's Thursday, and he can't miss _The Apprentice_."

She laughs quietly. They just look at each other for a while. He swallows his heart back into his chest and finally she nods.

"Yeah. That'd be great."

She leaves early, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, nothing more. The other girl watches from reception and feels bad that she's so happy about it. But she's happy nonetheless.

She's happy when he stands up, stretching. She's happy when he tosses a glance over his shoulder at her, smiling slightly. She's happy when he grabs his things and waits for her.

He, on the other hand, doesn't know what he's doing. His heart's racing and his palms are sweating. He feels guilty and he hasn't even done anything.

Yet.

They decide to do dinner and share a ride to the restaurant. He opens her door for her and she giggles and thanks him. It's like a first date, but he already has a girlfriend.

He lets her pick the music, and as soon as it starts playing he realizes it was a bad idea.

"We 'danced' to this on our 'first date,' remember?" she smiles.

Of course I remember, Goddammit. But all he says is, "Yeah."

She's a lot calmer about this than he is. She's smiling and humming and looking out the window. He's clenching the wheel until his knuckles are white and trying to focus on anything but the faint smell of her perfume.

He parks and without thinking gets out to open her door for her again.

"Such a gentleman."

She beams and his heart shatters again. Every nerve in his body is vibrating.

He quiets his thoughts when they sit down. Things eventually fall back to normal between them. They're smiling and laughing and making up stories about people in the restaurant.

"No, she's obviously an undercover spy, seducing him for his secrets. We think he works for a travel magazine but he's actually working for the CIA," she says about a couple across the room.

"Honestly, Beesly—isn't that from Alias?"

She blushes. "Maybe."

"Get some creativity here."

They laugh and move on to the next table.

Dinner ends and they get dessert. They don't want to leave. The bill comes and he instinctively reaches for it. She raises her eyebrows at him.

"You're paying for me?"

He blushes and his calm leaves him. "Habit, I guess."

"Your mother raised you right."

He nods but doesn't quite believe it. If she had raised him right, would he be thinking these things about the girl sitting across from him?

He opens her door for her one last time as they climb back into his car. They're arguing about if the newest Shins c.d. is an improvement on their past work, and suddenly they're sitting in his driveway and he's turned off the engine.

She looks up at his house and laughs.

"Oops," he grins sheepishly. "Force of habit again, I guess. I'll take you—"

But she's already getting out of the car. He watches her curiously as she crosses in front of it and glances back at him, smiling.

"Coming, Halpert?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She laughs and keeps walking. Finally he gets out of the car.

"You know your car's back at the office, right?"

"You can get to the roof from your bedroom window, right?"

"That was the other house, Pam."

"Oh, right. Shoot. Can you get to your roof though?"

"Well there's a relatively flat part in the back that we could probably climb to. But it's probably—"

"C'mon, let's go. The stars are beautiful."

She's not your girlfriend, she's not your girlfriend, she's not your girlfriend.

That is his new mantra as he follows her into the backyard.

"Up there?"

He nods.

She grabs a porch column and hoists herself to the railing. His hands instinctively go to her waist, and electricity shoots through him as he holds her steady.

"Whoa there."

"I'm fine."

"I don't want you to fall."

"Seriously, I'm fine." And she clamors all the way to the roof.

He looks at her and she's beaming down at him. "Now let's see if you can make it without falling."

"I'm always up for a challenge."

His long, slender body makes it to the roof in seconds, looking more like he just took a step up than had to climb ten feet.

"Hey there Beesly."

"Hey there Halpert."

He sits on the edge, long legs dangling over the porch. She sits farther up, her legs stretched out in front of her, leaning on her hands.

"Get up here. I'm afraid you're going to fall off."

"I won't," he says, but he climbs up anyway.

They sit together, looking up at the stars. He leans onto one elbow and points.

"There's the Big Dipper."

"Everyone can find the Big Dipper, doofus. Try for something a little more impressive."

"Oh, I have to impress you now, do I?"

She giggles. He scans the sky and points again.

"There. Pegasus."

"You're making that up."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"Fine, Beesly. You always win."

They both lay all the way back and stare into the night sky. Everything is silent and still. A car drives by.

"I'm the girl, aren't I?" she says suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm the other woman."

"Oh." He is silent for a moment. "Can you be the other woman if nothing happens?"

"If the feelings are there, yeah."

They're still looking up at the stars. They may as well be continuing their discussion about constellations, but the air seems heavier than that.

His voice is quiet when he speaks again. "Can you be the other woman if you were the first woman? If you were the only woman, all along?"

She looks at him, but he can't quite bring himself to look back. Not yet. Is it supposed to be like this? Is anything supposed to be like this?

"I left Roy for you. And you're with Karen, which I could handle except I never believed you really wanted to be with her."

"I did," he says fiercely. "I did want to be with her. I wanted it so desperately it hurt, Pam. Because I wanted anything to take the pain of you away."

She inhales sharply and wipes her eyes. Finally he looks at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you—"

"You didn't," she cuts him off. But she's a bad liar.

"Look it's just—I was so in love with you. I wanted you so much. And you were with Roy and it just got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. So I ran. And I tried to find someone else, I tried to get over you."

She is silent. This is where she's supposed to give him the leading "but…", but of course she doesn't conform to it. It's too romantic comedy for her. So he has to go on himself.

"But I couldn't. But I'm not. Dammit Pam."

She's surprised to hear him swear. He doesn't usually do that unless he's watching a Phillies game.

"I still love you."

"I love you, too," she says with no hesitation.

He chuckles quietly. "I sort of hoped the first time we said that to each other, I wouldn't have a different girlfriend."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

The silence between them is heavy and frightening. He breaks it with a sudden decision.

"Well, I should probably go break up with Karen."

She beams. "Maybe. But you might want to give me a ride to my car first."

"Oh God, Pam, I'm so sorry. I forgot."

"It's okay."

He climbs down first, then holds his hands up to help her, even though she doesn't need it. She jumps from the railing and lands against his solid chest. He looks down at her, so happy to be so close. But she pushes him back.

"I may be the other woman in theory, but not in practice. No kissing until you don't have a girlfriend."

He nods. "Fair enough."

She can't stop sneaking glances of him as they walk back to his car. He notices and can't help but smile. When he opens her door for her she leans up and kisses him quickly on the mouth.

"I thought we were waiting until I didn't have a girlfriend," he says, his mouth turned up in an adorable half-smile.

"I felt like I've made you wait long enough."

"I'd wait forever."

"I know. Me too."


End file.
